Between States Book 2: Beneath a Yankee Sky

Caleb nodded against Brance's back and stood, then leaned down to whisper, "I still want that fuck."

"Later," Brance conceded.

Behind him Caleb stretched again. Brance risked a quick glance up and saw a glorious sight -- his lover's balls nestled in fuzzy hair, and the tip of his dick pointing down at Brance like a single sightless eye winking in temptation. If it weren't so late, and the change so imminent ... if only they had world enough and time ...

A foot nudged the small of Brance's back. "I see you looking," Caleb said again. "Two minutes, I'm telling you ..."

Sudden discomfort flickered across Caleb's face as one hand clutched his lower belly. "God," he gasped, a look of sickness on his young face. Turning on his heel, he raced for a low thicket nearby. Brance heard him retch as he disappeared into the underbrush.

It was nothing more than the moon on the rise but when Caleb cried out in pain, Brance stood and half-turned to follow his lover into the trees before a cramp in his own stomach doubled him over. Clutching his abdomen, Brance fell, breathless, to the ground. His skin began to burn, as if flames lapped his body -- pain slashed through him, radiating from his belly up through his chest, shooting down both legs, crippling his arms. In the cataclysm of change, his joints popped as his bones crunched down, reshaping themselves into a familiar feline form. Burnished hair erupted over the back of his hands, along his legs. As he writhed on the ground, his fingers fumbled to unbutton his shirt. His breath came hoarse and close, ragged to his own ears. Over the sound he heard the brook muttering to itself and, beyond that, Caleb's quiet sobs.

With nerveless fingers, Brance managed to extract himself from the shirt. His hands changed as he struggled to undress -- his nails lengthening, curving, sharpening; his fingers retreating into padded paws. The last vestiges of humanity fell away as he kicked off his underpants -- the legs that slipped from the shorts drew up to Brance's body, feet dissolving into paws, ankles straightening, knees bending back as his thighs reformed into haunches.

Around him, the night came alive with sights and smells and sounds the human he had been could not appreciate. Brance lay on his side, panting, as he allowed himself to remember the feel of this body, its weight and power, the strength now flowing through his veins. The thrashing in Caleb's thicket had stopped, as well. The stench of man filled the clearing but Brance recognized it as his own scent, mingled so heavily with his lover's that the two became one.

A sudden roar split the night. It flashed like lightning through Brance, igniting his blood. As he rolled into a sitting position, the trees nearby shook -- he watched a bobcat trot from the thicket, amber eyes trained on Brance's face. Before he could react, the cat came right for him without hesitation. Its cold nose wrinkled as it sniffed over Brance's forehead -- he closed his eyes, waiting.

Then a choppy purr filled the night air, and the bobcat butted its head against Brance's. ::What about now?:: the other cat mused. It turned, raising its short tail into the air to expose its anus. A heady scent blossomed between them, a randy, wild smell that eclipsed all others and made Brance's claws knead the soft dirt beneath him, eager. Caleb's voice spoke into Brance's feline brain. ::Will you fuck me now?::